


Awkward Duet

by lovelokest



Category: Hard Core Logo (1996)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Movie, Yuletide 2008
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-20
Updated: 2012-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelokest/pseuds/lovelokest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe misses Billy. Billy doesn't miss Joe. Set pre-movie with no spoilers for the movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awkward Duet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sionnain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sionnain/gifts).



> Thanks to sister_wolf, fairestcat and izzybeth for beta duty, brainstorming and general hand-holding.

It was easy to be anonymous in L.A., to slip into some dank, shit hole of a club and just be. It was one of the reasons that Billy liked L.A. Few people recognized him and fewer people cared enough to tell Billy how fucking punk Joe Dick was when he pissed into Seymour Stein's drink. 

The bartender called last call and Billy ordered two more shots of bourbon, downed them and threw a five on the bar before unsteadily getting to his feet and weaving his way outside. Outside it was warm and smelled comfortingly of booze, weed, sex and vomit--just like any low rent bar should. 

If he hadn't stopped to light a cigarette and had to face into the breeze, he wouldn't have noticed who was following him: Joe Dick. Joe fucking Dick. What the hell was he doing here in L.A. and why the fuck was he following Billy? 

Joe must have noticed that Billy was following him because he stopped and grinned with his arms open wide, "Billy!" 

Billy crossed the distance between them and shoved Joe into the wall while yelling, "What the fuck are you doing, Joe?" 

If Joe was surprised at Billy's actions, he didn't show it. "Fuck you, Billy," Joe said as he tried to push himself off the wall, "I just wanted to see a friend." 

With a bitter laugh, Billy replied "There never is 'just seeing a friend' with you, Joe," and clenched his fingers into a fist before punching the wall next to Joe's head. Joe didn't flinch. Fucker was so off his fucking brain on blow and alcohol that he probably didn't even notice. 

Joe smiled a shit-eating grin with a lit cigarette dangling from his lips, his pupils blown and eyes glassy. "Just wanted to make sure that L.A. hadn't turned you into a fucking pansy." 

It was such classic Joe Dick that Billy couldn't help but laugh. "Asshole," he said and flexed his fingers again, feeling the scrape and sting of bloody knuckles. 

Joe stepped away from the wall and closer into Billy's personal space, "Admit it Billy, you know you missed it." 

"Missed you being a fuckhead and fucking yourself over at every turn?" he asked. 

"Aw, come on, sometimes I fucked you over," Joe said and punched Billy in the arm. 

"Cunt. Really, why the fuck are you here?" 

"Can't I come see my Billy-boy?" 

Billy glared at him, "No, you can't." 

Joe sighed and dropped his cigarette butt onto the ground. "Festus has some papers he wants you to sign and you aren't in the fucking phone book." 

"And he sent you?" 

"Well, he was going to come himself, but I told him that I've never been to fucking California before and he let me." 

"Bullshit. I know you've been to California before." Billy stepped away from Joe and turned to leave. 

Joe stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. Billy tried to shrug it off but Joe only tightened his grip. "You're right, I've been to California before, I just...I just missed you," Joe said, trying to look as innocent as possible. 

He was such a fucking asshole. "Where and what are the papers for?" Billy asked. 

"They're back in my hotel room. Ed wants to re-release our records," Joe replied. "C'mon, the bars are closed and I've got a bottle of bourbon." 

"All right, asshole. Show me the papers." 

*** 

It was dark inside Joe's shitty motel with the only light coming through a rip in the curtains. "Nice place," Billy said as Joe flipped on the bedside lamp to reveal shit-brown carpeting and a messy bed with cigarette burns on the orange blanket. 

"Fuck off and hand me the bourbon in the closet," Joe said as he sat down on the bed. He grabbed a half-empty pack of cigarettes from the nightstand table and lit one, blowing smoke into Billy's eyes. 

"Get it yourself, and the fucking papers that Festus wants me to sign," Billy said as he sat on the bed next to Joe and stole the cigarette from Joe's fingers. He took a deep drag and blew the smoke into Joe's face. 

Joe flipped Billy off and took his cigarette back before standing and going over to the closet and getting the bourbon bottle out and a sheaf of papers. He shoved the papers into Billy's hands before opening the bottle and taking a long swig. 

Billy glanced at the papers. Fuck the writing was small and he hated that legal shit. He grabbed the bottle from Joe and took a drink before asking, "When does Festus need these by?" 

"Last week. You're a tricky asshole to find," Joe replied, brushing his crotch against Billy's shoulder as he reached over Billy for the ashtray. 

"Did it ever occur to you that I didn't want to be found?" Billy asked, rolling his eyes. Fucking Joe Dick. 

"You always want to be found by me, Billium," Joe replied smugly as he unzipped his jeans and pushed them down. Fucker wasn't wearing any underwear. 

"Asshole." 

*** 

Billy lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply and then exhaled, pleasure still buzzing down his spine. Jesus, he hadn't sex that good for a long time. L.A. didn't have a shortage of girls looking for a quick anonymous fuck, but girls in L.A. hadn't been getting him off since he was a teenager. 

Joe reached over him for the bottle and took a drink and offered it to Billy. "Festus wants to get Hard Core Logo together for one last tour." 

"No," Billy replied, taking the bottle from Joe and finishing it off in two swallows. 

"Come on Billy, just say yes. You know you will." 

Billy laughed. "Fuck no, I will not. One, you're on coke and when you're on coke, you fuck away the band's money on hookers. Two, I've got a pretty good gig here." 

"Since when did you become a corporate little pig?" 

"Since you put your dick into Seymour Stein's drink," Billy replied and sat up to stub his cigarette out in the ashtray. 

"Come on, you know he was a little fucker who got what he deserved." 

"And you're a little fucker who got what he deserved," Billy said. 

"That's not buddies," Joe said, gripping Billy's shoulder in a cheap facsimile of friendliness. 

"Fuck off," Billy replied, shrugging off Joe's hand. 

"L.A. hasn't changed you that much, Billy," Joe said as he got up and snagged a bag of blow from the pocket of his jeans. He went to the bathroom and turned on the light before shutting the door. 

Rifling through the bedside table, Billy found a pen and stared at the papers for a moment before signing them and throwing them on the wet spot. 

Fuck Joe Dick, he wasn't Joe's little bitch anymore. Fuck him. 

Standing, he pulled on his jeans and shirt, found his shoes and left. 

 

END


End file.
